Dance Factory
by Darkyami7
Summary: Yugi spends forty dollars on a game that he thought would be amazing. He's sorely disappointed, and the only thing that can make him feel better is Yami. Maybe. YYxY.


"Dance Factory"

Rating/Warnings: T/Yami being eager. :D.

Disclaimer: Other than the PS2 game, I don't own anything that has to do with Dance Factory. By the time that you're done reading this fic, you'll see that I wish that I didn't even own that. I don't own DDR, but will have the game SuperNOVA by next week. :D. I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! either, but that's something that I would pay 40 dollars for. And I'm not making any money off of any of this. :pouts:

Summary: Yugi spends forty dollars on a game that he thought would be amazing. He's sorely disappointed, and the only thing that can make him feel better is Yami. Maybe. YYxY.

Author's Notes: I just bought this game and I am very very upset because it sucks. So...might as well get a plot bunny out of it, neh?

Added Author's Notes: Please keep in mind that this is my opinion of the game; if you don't agree, then I'd love to hear your view, but please don't yell at me about it. Also, be aware that my opinion might change someday. If that's the case, then this story's coming down. :D.

* * *

Yugi loved Dance Dance Revolution. He would play it pretty much day and night, neglecting school work and chores just to move to the furious tunes of J-pop and more. He loved the feel of his burning and tingling calves after a good session, and the satisfaction of learning a song that he just couldn't play before. 

It was all going so well.

One day Yugi walked into a video game store and saw the game "Dance Factory," a look-alike of DDR that one could actually load their own CDs onto. Poor, naïve Yugi took a jump at the seemingly generous price of forty dollars and purchased said game.

Once again, it was all going so well. Then tragedy struck.

* * *

Yugi blinked, looking at the screen of the TV in the living room with disgust written upon his features. He had only owned "Dance Factory" for a scarce thirty minutes, and already he was becoming agitated with it. 

He could have sworn that the review on the back of the box said that it was basically the best game of the year…

The small duelist checked twice, just to make sure that his brain wasn't lying to him.

It wasn't.

"What?" Yugi said, looking from the game to the TV to the dance mat and back again, "They can't possibly be talking about the same thing."

It was terrible, the game. Sure, it was neat…sort of. Basically, the player took their favorite CDs, shoved them into the Playstation, then let the "Dance Factory" choreograph the moves for the songs on the CD. Well that's just dandy, neh?

Let's go with "neh" on that one. After all, the Playstation did most of the work anyways. And at least that lit up blue and green and red on occasion.

_How is someone supposed to dance to steps that never go with the music?_ Yugi thought, still staring at the packaging. It was true. The steps never went with the beat of the tune, which was most of the magic of DDR in the first place. It was as if a randomly generated sequence of steps was just equated with the song, not paying any attention to the wonderful features of the melody.

Yugi was willing to bet that if he dared to play another song the steps would turn out the same. It was just too bad that he wouldn't…ever again.

How unnerving.

"Well…" Yugi said half-heartedly, digging the receipt out of his pocket and throwing the game with it onto the couch behind him, "There goes forty bucks."

Though Yugi would never admit it, this made him angry; the reasoning behind it could have been for a couple of reasons: Yugi was either, a. mad at the fact that someone was able to sell such a terrible game, or b. really embarrassed at the fact that he fell for it.

Instead of pondering it, the teenager just decided to pout. And he continued to pout, just standing there in the middle of the room; Yami came in a minute later, home from a jog, and started to watch the smaller pout with that determined-but-soft brooding expression that he often wore.

"Aibou, is something…wrong?" Yami asked, unsure for a moment as to how to put his words. He unzipped his jacket then threw it onto the couch; it landed on top of the PS2 attachment. The former Pharaoh really couldn't have cared less; DDR sounded so odd to him. Besides, he didn't like to dance.

"I'm just upset, Yami." Yugi said, blinking, his pout never leaving his face. "I got all excited about this game and it turned out to be really bad."

"What, the "Dance Factory" game?" Yami asked, ever observant. He walked towards Yugi and put his arms around his lover; they nuzzled for a quick minute in silence.

Yugi sighed, "Yeah. It wasn't good at all, and I can't even get a refund for it."

Yami was silent for a few seconds, but then he hugged Yugi closer to him and kissed his ear softly; Yugi shivered. "How about we go and buy SuperNOVA next week. That'll cheer you up, right?"

Yugi only shrugged, "It's just the principle of it. I got taken for a sucker."

Unknown to Yugi, the taller duelist smirked, his eyes glowing slightly. He turned Yugi around in his arms and kissed him on the forehead, "Come on, let's go to the arcade. We can play real DDR for a while."

Yugi smiled. Yami didn't play Dance Dance Revolution too often, and it was an even rarer occurrence for him to offer it. Yugi loved how his Yami put the smaller's happiness above his own. It made him feel wanted. "Thanks Yami. I appreciate it."

"I'm glad," Yami said, leaning down to claim Yugi's lips this time. They kissed for a few minutes, just happy to be together.

When they pulled apart, Yugi looked into the taller's face and saw that smirk. Yugi knew that smirk, and went back in his memory to ponder something that he could have said to make his Yami so…amused. There was something else there, too; something that Yugi knew well.

He supposed that he could just go and attempt to return "Dance Factory" the next day. It wasn't like he'd get what he wanted, anyways.

Well…at least in terms of dancing.

**_End. _**

Moral of the story: Third party vendors suck. Don't buy from them. Buy real DDR.

**_Second moral of the story that I added in just for fun:_** Yami is just too plain eager for his own good. :D.

* * *

Author's Notes: Umm...I'm aware that this story was...bad. :blinks: There was no resolution, but seeing how this story is based off of what happened to me today, it probably shouldn't. And I'm out forty bucks. 

Please Review.


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